


Heaven's Child

by Tamyou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angels Are Watching Over You, Angst, Canon Era, Castiel in Alternate Vessels, Childhood Friends, Children, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, F/M, Family, Gen, Guardian Angel Castiel, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1589657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamyou/pseuds/Tamyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels were watching him, that's what Mom always said before she put him to bed. He remembered that. Why, then, Dean believed angels did not exist for so long? He wasn't always like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This is an idea I had basically from the first time Castiel appeared in "Lazarus Rising". I saw a few fanfictions here of the same concept, but I wanted to write my own version. This is how I imagine Castiel being Dean's angel. Because for me, Castiel knew Dean from the very beginning, watching over him like the guardian angel he is. This is a multi-chapters story.

* * *

Chapter 1: The Beginning.

* * *

The first time he saw him, he knew he was special. Extraordinary. Unique.

His mother was pregnant. He was about to have a younger brother soon, and he was so excited. He helped his father to decorate the nursery, painted the walls – and got paint all over himself, too – and picked toys for Sammy, things he was sure his future baby brother would like. He picked a mobile for him, to hang over his crib.

He was so excited.

He was just in the middle of putting stuffed toys on a low shelf when he heard his mother's slow and heavy steps outside the nursery. He turned around to greet her with a smile, running to hug her knees and rest his head right under her huge stomach. Mary smiled down at him, ruffling his hair with one hand as the other held a small bag.

"What are you doing up here, sweetie?" She asked, her voice melodious. Dean would always remember her voice this way – warm and comforting. He shrugged.

"Making Sam's room cool." He said in his tiny voice, frowning for a second. "Daddy knows nothin' about Teddy-bears, Mom." Mary laughed.

"I brought you something to put on Sammy's shelf." She said in a singsong voice, leaning as if she had a great secret. Dean's big, green eyes lit up in eager curiosity. Mary shook the bag in her hand gently.

"What is it?" The four-years-old asked.

"An angel." Mary pulled a small angel statue from the bag and carefully handed it to Dean. "You had one when you were a baby, too." She smiled. "Well, you know what I always say? Angels are-"

"'Angels are watching over you.'" Dean repeated the familiar saying, smiling brightly at his mother. "Yeah, I know, Mom."

"Now, where do you want to put it?" Mary asked lightly, guiding Dean back to the shelf. "Maybe... next to... Mr. Bunny?" She said in a playful voice that meant to startle her son. Dean giggled. "Or maybe Mr. Teddy Bear?"

"Mom, you can't call all his toys 'Mister'. That's silly." Dean said in a very serious tone, placing the angel at the side closest to the empty crib.

"Oh, I see. So you want cool names." Mary said in a matching serious tone, smirking under her breath at her son's cute and grave face. "Do you want to name Sammy's angel?" She asked. Dean nodded enthusiastically.

"Sure!"

"So, you go and think about a very very cool name, and come back to tell me?" She suggested. And when Dean nodded again, she laughed and pinched his nose where freckles covered his skin like candies, then sent him off to his way.

* * *

Daddy took him to the park today. Mom was at the doctor, checking on his baby brother that was soon to arrive. Or so Daddy told him. The park was nearly empty – Dean saw two twin little girls playing by the swings, but he didn't want to go and play with them – he decided they looked mean. And so he stayed by himself and started making a castle of sand, big and magnificent in his opinion – fit for a king or at least a rich lord.

Maybe Sammy would like to play with him when he is a little bit older.  _And born_ , Dean reminded himself. He couldn't wait for his brother to be here already. He knew he'd be the best big brother he could ever be. With that in mind, he worked harder on the wet sand, determined to finish his artwork before Daddy said they had to head back home.

Clearing his hands from the drying mud, he stared at his work. He was so concentrated and so proud of his sand palace, he didn't notice the kid that approached him from behind.

"Hello." A small voice said from behind him, and Dean jumped, knocking a wall of sand in surprise.

"My castle!" He called in disappointment, his chin trembling in his attempt to stop the tears that burned his eyes. Boys did not cry.

"I apologize," The kid said monotonously and sat on his knees in front of Dean. He sounded sincerely sorry, and the vibe Dean felt radiating from him was warm and comforting... but not like Mom's vibe. It was different. "Would you like me to help you rebuild it?" He asked. Dean sniffed hesitantly, then nodded.

"Yeah..." He mumbled, watching the other kid flashing him a small, awkward smile.

Dean blinked.

This kid was about two or three years older than him, he figured. He had light brown hair and pale skin, and he was slightly chubby. But what caught Dean's attention the most was his deep-blue eyes.  _They look like the sea_ , Dean thought. He remembered how big the sea was. Daddy took him there last summer.

He glanced back to where his father sat. John's attention was all paid to a book he read, though he glanced up from time to time to see if his son was alright. He caught his father's eye and waved, smiling. John returned the smile with an awkward one of his own, then went back to his book. Dean looked back at the older kid, chewing his lower lip.

"I'm Dean." He finally introduced himself, being as polite as Mom taught him to be when talking to strangers.

The kid looked up at him from the castle he helped to repair and tilted his head in a slight surprise, as if he forgot Dean was sitting there right in front of him. His amazingly blue eyes blinked once, twice, and then he offered a mud-covered hand for Dean to shake.

"Castiel."


	2. Discoveries

* * *

Chapter 2:

* * *

Mom was in the hospital again. This time, though, it was because she had to go and bring Sammy home. Daddy went with her, and one of the nice neighbors stayed with him at the house to wait. Dean was so excited.

He sat on the edge of the couch in the living-room, kicking his legs back and forth impatiently, chewing his lower lip. The nice neighbor – Missouri – said his parents won't be back home for at least five or six more hours, and Dean already had enough waiting. The sun was disappearing in the horizon,  _too late to go to the park_ , he thought sadly.

He missed Castiel.

He hadn't seen the older boy for more than a week now. That one meeting they had in the park was one Dean could not get out of his head. He told his mother all he knew about this mysterious Castiel, and when Daddy put him to bed that night, he made him promise to take him back to the park the next day, to meet him again.

But the next day, Castiel was nowhere to be seen.

He went with John to the park every day for the past week, hoping to see his friend again. And every day, he came back home with lowered face and big, sad green eyes. It broke Mary's heart.

Now, concerned with thoughts of his parents, his new brother and his missing friend, he couldn't just sit quietly. Dean's shoulders tensed for a second in hesitation, and then he nodded to himself and leaped off the couch, heading straight to the house's front door. Missouri looked up from the dinner she was cooking for him and eyed him suspiciously.

"Where are you going, young man?" she asked sharply. Dean jumped, then turned and gave her his brightest smile.

"Out." He said innocently. "To the yard, that's all, I promise." Missouri looked like she was considering the idea, narrowing her eyes for a second.

"Fine." She said at last, and Dean's chest was filled with relief. "But you are not going past the yard's gate, understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Good. Come back inside in time for dinner."

And he was gone before she could change her mind.

It was chilly outside, but Dean didn't dare going back inside to take his jacket, in case Missouri would decide he should stay indoor. He walked towards the beaten swing his father made him last year from a piece of wood and an old rope tied to a tree, and sat in it, swinging his legs and kicking the short grass.

So quiet.

He heard a soft flutter of wings somewhere around him, and looked up at the tree curiously, trying to catch the bird with his eyes. He couldn't see a thing.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean jumped in his place on the swing, but his heart jumped even higher as he recognized the quiet, monotonous voice. He looked aside and smiled brightly as Castiel made his way towards him. If Dean wasn't so excited to see him, he would have wondered how could Castiel come from inside the thick bushes.

"Cass!" He called happily, leaping off the swing and hurrying toward his older friend. He hugged him tightly for a brief moment before letting go and staring up at the slightly taller boy. "Where have you been?" He asked, his lower lip curling for a second in a gentle scowl before switching back to a smile. Castiel looked at him blankly.

"I was... busy." He avoided the question, then lowered his head briefly. "I apologize."

Dean giggled. "You're talking real funny." He commented. "But I forgive you." Castiel shrugged, flashing him a small and shy smile. Dean smiled back and walked towards the swing, sitting on the grass next to the tall tree and crossing his legs. "Come here," He called, seeing Castiel kept standing motionless where he left him. The older boy nodded and approached Dean, gracefully sinking into a sitting position in front of him.

"Do you wanna play?" Dean asked after a few seconds of silence, realizing his friend was content with simply sitting there quietly and staring at Dean for hours. It made him slightly uncomfortable, but it was funny, too. Dean's voice tore the other boy out of his thoughts, and he blinked at Dean in confusion, as if he was in another world. He nodded, and Dean reached for a small ball that was behind the tree, not far from his swing.

"How?" Castiel asked curiously. Dean stared at him in surprise.

"You never played with someone?" He gaped at him. Castiel shook his head slowly.

"No."

"I'll teach you, then."

And they played. Dean started with rolling the ball towards Castiel, nodding in approval when the other boy rolled it hesitantly back, getting the idea. They started throwing it at each other, but Dean quickly got tired of the game alone. "Where are you from?" He suddenly asked. Castiel tensed, almost missing the ball Dean threw at him.

"Lawrence..." He said, and it sounded more like a question. Dean frowned.

"I don't understand."

"It's... complicated." Castiel avoided the answer awkwardly. Dean shrugged.

"Okay." He nodded, then smiled. "I'm having a little brother, you know?" He informed the older boy enthusiastically. Castiel watched him quietly for a few seconds, and a shy smile stretched his chapped lips.

"That's joyful." He said. Dean laughed. Castiel was weird, and he talked funny, but Dean liked him.

"It is." He smiled brightly. "Mom said his name is going to be Sam. She didn't say why, though."

"It's a nice name." Castiel replied, throwing the ball at Dean. The younger boy caught it, tapping on it twice with his palms.

"You have a nice name, too." He said, throwing it back at Castiel. "What does it mean?"

"It's an angel's name." Castiel said quietly, throwing the ball back and waiting for Dean to do the same. When he didn't, Castiel frowned a little, tilting his head at Dean's expression.

"Are you an angel...?" The little boy whispered in awe. Castiel swallowed hard, and nodded slowly, worridly. "Wow...!" Dean's green eyes lit in excitement. Castiel seemed surprised by his reaction.

"Aren't you scared?" He asked quietly. From his experience with the human kind, people didn't tend to accept that so easily. Dean shook his head passionately, leaving the ball and quickly crawling to sit closer to his friend, watching him in awe.

"Can you do magic?" He asked, huge green eyes shining. Castiel looked around him worriedly, but when he saw no one was around, he nodded again. He plucked a long blade of grass from the ground and held it between his fingers. Dean watched with his mouth slightly open, as a small blue flower started blooming in front of his eyes, spreading it's petals. He couldn't find words to tell Castiel how amazing he found this.

"That's so cool, Cass...!" He called at last, eyes shooting fire. "You're awesome!" Castiel smiled sheepishly, delicate blush tinting his ears at the compliments. He was happy to make Dean happy.

They didn't even get the chance to discuss it properly, before Missouri's firm and commanding voice called out for Dean to get his ass in the house in five seconds. Dean glanced at the front door and bit his lip, looking back at Castiel. He didn't want his friend to go so soon – not after so long without seeing him at all. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he smiled brightly.

"Say," He asked Castiel. "Do you want to come in? My parents aren't at home, and Missouri is really nice if you keep your mouth shut." He giggled. "We could eat dinner and watch a movie or something." He offered, waiting anxiously for Castiel's answer. The older boy looked hesitant, but eventually he nodded, seeing Dean's expecting expression.

"Alright."

"Great!" Dean called happily, dragging his friend to the house by the hand.

"but, Dean- Dean, wait...!" He tried to say, attempting to get the other's attention. They stopped on the front porch, and Dean turned to look at Castiel, the smile still on his lips.

"What?"

"You must keep this in secret, okay?" Castiel stared at him seriously. Dean's smile flickered for a brief moment, but he nodded.

"Sure."

Inside, Missouri was already standing impatiently by the table, watching suspiciously as Dean dragged an older-looking boy inside the house. Something about this blue-eyed kid seemed strange to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. What she knew for sure, he wasn't human. He was different from anything she'd ever seen... but she said nothing. The vibe she sensed was gentle and sincere. It was okay.

"Would you introduce me your little friend?" Missouri raised an eyebrow at Dean. The Winchester boy smiled brightly at her. She already knew, this boy will become one handsome man one day.

"This is Cass," Dean said, pushing his nervous friend forward.

"It's Castiel." He corrected him, offering his hand to shake Missouri's. She smirked.

"You're quite the gentleman." She commented appreciatively, glancing at Dean. "You should learn from him." Dean just shrugged.

They had a great evening. They watched a movie Missouri brought them, and she even was nice enough to bring them some chocolate from Mary's hidden box, where she kept all the candies for Dean. Mary Winchester knew her son too well to let him eat chocolate freely. It was Castiel's first time ever tasting chocolate, and the overwhelmed gasp he let out as the small piece melted on his tongue was priceless. Dean laughed until his stomach hurt. Castiel blushed.

The evening passed without them noticing, and Dean soon fell asleep on the couch a few hours later, with his head gently resting on Castiel's shoulder. The older boy did not move a muscle, and only smiled fondly down at him. Missouri watched the boys carefully for a while from her place next to the table.

"Do you want me to take you home, honey?" She asked Castiel quietly. He looked up at her in silence for a moment, and shook his head slowly.

"No, thank you." He said. "I know the way."

"Are you sure?" She insisted. "It's pretty late." Castiel sighed.

"It's alright. There is no need to pretend now." He said quietly, glancing down at Dean, who slept soundly on his shoulder. He moved him carefully to lean against the sofa's pillows, looking back at the woman. "I know you know."

Missouri tensed.

"And?" She asked. Castiel tilted his head in question. She frowned. "And, do I have a reason to worry?"

"No." The little boy answered quietly, his tone much more ancient than his looks.

"That's good." She smiled weakly, and he disappeared.

The next morning, Dean woke up in his bed to the sound of a thin cry of a newborn baby. His parents were home, and that meant that Sammy was, too. He jumped out of bed and ran to the nursery, an excited glint in his sleepy eyes. His mother was already there, picking a tiny baby up of the crib. When she noticed Dean, though, she turned and smiled at him tiredly.

"Good morning, sweetie." Mary whispered gently. "Come here, meet your new baby brother."


	3. Hide and Seek

* * *

Chapter 3: Hide and Seek

* * *

Dean was sitting on a small stool next to Sammy's crib in the nursery, watching curiously as his mother picked his little brother up and bounced him gently in her arms, speaking soft nonsense in his tiny ear. The new baby was a wonder Dean couldn't get enough of – every time he could make Sam laugh, or smile, every time he managed to catch his attention and get him to grab his finger, was a moment of bliss.

He glanced aside. The angel statue Mary got for Dean to give Sam was watching, too, from it's place on the edge of the shelf, where Dean put it. A few days ago, when she put the baby to sleep with Dean by her side, she asked her eldest son what name he decided to give the angel. And, since the only angel he knew was Castiel, he naturally nicknamed the small angel statue, 'Cass'.

Mary thought it was perfect.

Castiel, Dean noticed, came and went as he pleased. He never knew when his angel friend would pop in his backyard, or sneak on him at the park. Sometimes, he would plan meetings – just to make sure Cass did not forget him completely. And every time, Castiel would be there, just in time.

Dean also found out that prayers helped. A lot.

He thought it was a little bit haughty, though, but it was okay. Dean quite liked Castiel's odd manners.

Mary never met Castiel, and neither did John. Dean wanted his parents to meet him – since they heard so much about him – but Castiel always seemed to appear before him while they were too busy, or gone. Today, though, Mary planned on taking Sammy out to the park for the first time. Dean was coming too.

He was running around excitedly, bringing flowers and small stones to show Sammy, telling him the different names and pointing at a few mean kids he thought his baby brother shouldn't hang out with. Not that he could, yet, of course. Mary laughed.

He was just hurrying back to the single available swing when it suddenly became unavailable, occupied by no other than a grinning Castiel with big blue eyes. Dean's face reflected the grin and he almost knocked his friend off the swing as he jumped at his neck with open arms. Castiel froze, not sure how to react to the sudden fondness and carelessness he was receiving from his human friend.

"This feels strange." He commented, his hands grasping the swing's ropes tighter. Dean let him go and stood at arm-length from him, looking curious. "Although, not necessarily unpleasant." He continued. Dean frowned and shook his head. Castiel's way of speaking was sometimes a little bit difficult to understand.

"You could hug back, you know?" He smiled nonetheless. Castiel tilted his head.

"I am not so familiar with human manners." He admitted quietly. "The last time I walked the earth, was quite a long time ago."

"...what...?" Dean looked utterly confused. He couldn't understand a word this kid was saying. "Okay... nevermind. Do you wanna play?" His small, round, freckles-covered face lightened up again with a wide smile, and he flashed a short glance back to his mother, making sure Sammy was still there with her. Castiel nodded.

"What game?" He asked, gracefully sliding off the swing and standing a little bit too close to Dean. The young Winchester noticed the closeness, but didn't mention it and instead smiled and threw his fist in the air.

"Hide and Seek!" He exclaimed. Castiel tilted his head.

"How does one play, um, 'Hide and Seek'?" He asked. Dean sighed. Of course Cass wouldn't know the game's rules.

"It's simple," The younger explained patiently. "One of us hides somewhere here, and the other looks for him after counting to twenty. When the seeker find the other, we switch roles." Castiel nodded understandingly.

"That seems simple." He agreed. "Will you allow me to hide first?" The angel asked. Dean nodded enthusiastically.

"Sure! I'll count to twenty and then come and get you!" He said happily and leaned against the swing's pole, burying his face in his elbow and starting to count the seconds. Castiel looked slightly panicked, glancing around nervously at a search of a place to hide. This game turned to be quite complex for him after all.

"I'm coming to get ya!" He heard Dean yelling, and could almost hear the enthusiastic grin on his face. He drew his knees closer to his chest, trying to disappear in his dark hiding place under one of the playground slides. He saw Dean's shadow hurrying around from place to place, and suddenly a smiling face were staring right back at him.

"Gotcha!" Dean called and sneaked to sit next to Castiel, crossing his small legs and watching his friend. "You are not so good at hiding, dude." He commented and chuckled. Castiel frowned. Was Dean making fun of him?

"It's my first time." He said defensively. Dean just laughed and leaned against him, not noticing Castiel's muscles tensing.

"It's a nice place, though." The Winchester's small voice said. "It's quiet and no one can see us here."

"Why are we hiding?"

"Dunno." Dean shrugged. "But I like this, you know. Sitting here, just the two of us."

Castiel blushed.

"That's... nice." He said quietly. Dean pulled away from him and stared at Castiel curiously, as if considering something vary important. "...what?" Castiel asked, his wide blue eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Nothing." Dean said at last and smiled, then leaned and pecked Castiel's cheek. He got up and hurried out, giggling. "Are you coming or what?" He called, patting his pants to get rid of the sand and never noticing the surprise on his angel friend's face. "It's your turn to count!"

And he was gone.

Castiel's vessel's face was never that flushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, people. Reviews.


	4. Changes

* * *

Chapter 4: Changes

* * *

Sam was four months old now, and he was the coolest baby Dean had ever seen. He was already able to roll from side to side, and he made a habit of grabbing and pulling at Dean's hair. Dean didn't mind that much, because it was worth the adorable, teeth-less smiles Sammy gave him every time he managed to keep his older brother by his side.

Castiel's visits were not as frequent as before. He claimed to be busy with "angel stuff", as Dean put it. He missed him when he was gone, of course, but he was sure that Castiel was probably a very important angel, and therefore could not stay with him all the time. He had to go back to Heaven.

The last time Castiel visited him, though, almost gave Dean a heart attack.

* * *

"Hello, Dean."

Dean, who was currently working on a very complicated artwork in the sand at the park, looked up towards the unfamiliar voice, frowning. He stared at the dark haired kid standing in front of him, utterly confused.

"Who are you?" he asked hesitantly, standing up and brushing the sand off his pants. The kid's blue eyes narrowed and his frown matched Dean's, and he approached the younger awkwardly.

"It's me, Dean." He said slowly. Dean stared at him in confusion for a few long seconds, and then his eyes widened in recognition.

"Cass?!" He called in shock, quickly moving closer to the older kid, taking in his new appearance. He was slightly tanned, and his hair was a lot darker than his familiar light brown – almost black now. His face wasn't the chubby face Dean knew. It was a bit longer, less round. His eyes, blue as the deepest water of the ocean, were the only thing that indicated Dean it was indeed his friend. "What- how?"

"This...?" Castiel touched his chest lightly. "This is a vessel."

"A what?"

"A vessel." The angel repeated. "I don't have a body here on earth, so I have to use other's."

Dean kept staring at him, with his green eyes wide and his lips parted in surprise and wonder. "Oh." He mumbled, sitting back down, his artwork forgotten.

Castiel gracefully sat in front of him.

They were silent, for long, uncomfortable minutes.

"Does it hurt them?" Dean asked eventually. Castiel's gaze jumped to stare at him uneasily. He nodded slowly.

"You could say so." He said, his voice so quiet Dean had to lean closer to hear him. "That is why I needed to change my vessel. The other child was no longer willing to let me in. He is scared of me now."

Dean said nothing.

"Are you?" Castiel asked, his vessel's heart pounding fast in his chest.

Dean shook his head.

* * *

Mom and Dad were not at home tonight. His babysitter was already passed out on the couch, and Dean turned in his bed for a while now, unable to sleep. He sat up and huffed, looking around at his dark bedroom and looking for anything to distract himself. Books were not his thing, really, and watching old movies was not even an option with his babysitter still downstairs.

He climbed out of his bed, shivering a little at the cold air September brought. He sneaked quietly to the top of the stairs and made sure the girl there was sleeping, and returned to the hall, closing Sam's nursery door behind him.

His little brother was wide awake as well, and he cooed happily when Dean hovered over his crib, standing on a small stool and leaning his elbows on the crib's railing.

"Heya, Sammy." He whispered, smiling. "How you doin' down there?"

Sam cooed.

"Yeah, I know." Dean nodded. "It sucks, not being able to walk, huh? But, don't worry. You will, in no time. I promise."

Sam shrieked, and Dean laughed.

"You'll see. I'm gonna take you to the park and you could meet Cass." Dean smiled. "He's really cool. And I just know he'll like y-" Dean suddenly stopped talking, straining his hearing to catch any noise from downstairs. He heard the telephone ringing, and the sound pierced the silence. He heard his babysitter answering it, and he looked back at his little brother with his eyes wide.

"Sorry, Sammy." He whispered urgently and planted a brief kiss on Sam's forehead. "Gotta go before I get into troubles." He jumped off the stool and sneaked back to his own room, as quietly as he could. He closed the door and leaned against the wall, huffing in relief. He felt a little bit more tired than before, and his eyes wandered towards his bed in anticipation.

And he almost screamed.

"Cass!" He whispered, hurrying to his bed in surprise, his green eyes wide with disbelief at the kid sitting on the edge of his bed. In the middle of the night. "What the-"

"Hello, Dean." The angel said quietly, staring at Dean as if he thought 1 AM was perfectly normal time for casual visits. Dean gaped at him.

"What are you doing here?" The young Winchester asked, approaching his bed hesitantly and sitting next to his friend. Castiel shrugged.

"We did not see each other for a while." He explained, watching Dean's expression ease. "I came as soon as I could."

"In the middle of the night?" Dean chuckled, then clamped his hand over his mouth as his gaze flickered to the door. No sound was heard.

"If this is a problem, I assume I could come back in a more suitable time." Castiel said understandingly and attempted to get off the bed, but Dean's fingers suddenly closed over his left wrist. He looked down at his big, green eyes, and his freckles were obvious even in the dark room. Dean shook his head.

"It's okay." He whispered back and smiled. "You can stay."

Castiel nodded and sat back on the bed, quickly kicking off his shoes and lifting his legs on the bed, watching as Dean crawled towards his pillow and motioned his friend to join him. Castiel obeyed, and he pulled the blanket over them both. His heart – his vessel's heart, even though now Castiel could not tell the difference anymore – started beating a little bit faster as Dean rested his head close to his chest and closed his eyes.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

But Castiel couldn't sleep.

And so, the angel finally settled on placing his hand over Dean's right shoulder, and since sleep was not needed, he watched over the human child, all night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, comments...! Come on, tell me what you think.


	5. The Beginning of The End

Chapter 5: The Beginning of The End

* * *

The second day of November started out as any normal day. After the whole excitement around Halloween died down, it was time to go back to their normal life. Mom woke Dean up just like she did every morning, and he got dressed and went downstairs to greet his father before John left for work. He played outside most of the day, like he did almost every day, and waited for Castiel to show up. But Castiel didn't come as often as he used to.

They still saw each other from time to time, but Cass soon found out how hard it was to find new vessels. Dean counted three more new bodies in which his friend came to him, apologizing for his absence. They all looked different on the outside, Dean noticed, but their eyes were always, always the same blue. Right now, though, Castiel wore one of the neighbor's kids. A kid Dean actually met a few times before. It was strange, of course, but the 4 year-old said nothing.

They sat on the grass at the far side of the park, still within Mary Winchester's sight, who sat there with Sammy and teddy bears, like she did almost every day for the past two months.

It was such an ordinary day.

The two young boys sat there in silence and watched the clouds shape-shifting slowly, not feeling any need to talk. They enjoyed simply being in each other's presence, and Dean found it quite pleasant to just place his palm over the back of his friend's hand, feeling it's warmth radiating at him in strange, changing patterns. It was as if Castiel was glowing inside.

Perhaps he really was.

The angel's blue gaze wandered across the playground, finally settling over Mary and Sam. He frowned, dark and gentle eyebrows coming together and wrinkling his smooth forehead. Then, his expression softened and he almost looked sad. Dean watched him curiously, not used to seeing too many emotions on his friend's usually blank face.

"Cass?" He asked hesitantly. Castiel didn't answer for a few more seconds, finally humming quietly to indicate Dean he heard him, but never tearing his eyes from Mary for even a second. Dean wrinkled his nose in a slight frown, his freckles standing out in the cool November noon sunlight. "You okay?" He asked in a tiny voice, watching carefully for Castiel's reply.

"Yes."

"But..." Dean didn't know what exactly bothered him, and he certainly didn't know how to voice his thoughts. He only knew that something was weighting on his friend's mind, and he didn't like that one bit.

"But, what?" Castiel finally turned his head to stare at Dean, his blue eyes more intense than Dean ever saw before. The younger child bit his lower lip for a second, slightly taken aback by his angel's reaction. He shook his head, sandy hair getting in his eyes.

"I just thought..." He said, unsure of what would Castiel say. "I just thought, maybe we could do something together?" He asked hopefully. "I don't want you to be sad."

Castiel's frown deepened.

"I am not sad." He denied monotonously.

"Yes, you are. Your face was down." Dean pointed out. "But I'm gonna fix that. Come on." He said and grabbed Castiel's hand, dragging him behind him. "I'm gonna show you a new game."

* * *

Dim orange light of sunset covered the playground when Dean finally heard his mother's call. The two children climbed off the double swing and looked at each other, a slight smile coming to Dean's lips. Reluctantly, he stared at his and Cass' combined hands and let go, starting to walk toward his mother and a very restless Sam. Mary glanced at him distractedly while trying to calm the fussing baby in her arms, and said, "Are we ready to go home, sweetie?" Dean nodded in disappointment, and Mary's smiled. "Don't worry, honey. We will be back tomorrow, and you will see your little friend then."

"Yeah, I know." The blond child said, and his expression became just a little bit brighter.

"Good. Let's go home." She mumbled.

They were almost out of sight when Dean turned around to take another look at his friend, and frowned. Castiel still stood right where Dean left him, unmoving. He kept staring at them, watching the Winchesters' retreating backs in grave silence.

Dean shuddered.

The way home was short and the minute they walked past the doorstep, Mary took Sammy straight to the shower, leaving Dean to entertain himself. The boy landed himself on the couch in the livingroom, switching channels on the television in boredom. Nothing really caught his attention, and he let his mind wander the memories of his blissful days in the park.

He never had a friend like Cass before. He wasn't childish, and he was treating Dean well. He was weird, sure, but Dean thought it was funny and he really liked his odd manners.

The biggest difference, though... Dean noticed, while all the other kids he knew were busy with this and that... Castiel was not. He never talked about anything other than Dean. What Dean liked, what he hated. What bothered him, and how his days were. Was he happy? Was he sad? Could he help him? He had nothing in his life other than Dean and his heavenly 'duties'.

It was as if he  _was_  Dean's.

He was the best friend he ever, ever had.

"Sweetie?" His mother's gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Dean blinked once, then twice, and looked up at her. She stood in the hallway, a clean and alert baby Sam in her arms, wrapped in a new blanket. "You can get in the shower now, while I make us dinner, okay?" She suggested.

Dean nodded, jumping off the couch and hurrying towards his mother. He stopped for a minute and stood on his tiptoes to briefly tickle Sam's belly, a smile flashing on his face when the action got a shriek and a giggle out of his baby brother. Mary laughed, watching her eldest son disappearing in the hallway.

"Don't forget to wash your hair!" she called after him.

"Yeah, I know, mom!"

* * *

Dinner was pleasantly quiet, disturbed only by the small gurgling noises Sam made, and the occasional giggle at the funny faces Dean pulled for him.

Later, after helping his mother clean up the table and watching over Sam while she finished making his father a plate for when he's home, Dean changed into his Pajamas and settled next to his mother and brother on the couch again. They watched a cartoon together, and just when Dean felt himself falling asleep, Mary's hand on his shoulder shook him gently.

"Come on, baby. Let's put you to bed." She whispered.

"Where is Sam...?" He mumbled and rubbed his eyes, sitting up. Mary smiled.

"Already in his crib."

"Is Dad home yet?"

"On his way."

"And-"

"Get up, mister. Don't try to delay the inevitable." Mary scolded him with a smile all over her face. "You are going to bed." She left no room for arguments when she suddenly picked him up and settled him on her hip as if he was still a baby. He frowned, but then rested his head on her shoulder tiredly and allowed her to take him up the stairs to the second floor.

"Come on, let's say goodnight to your bother." Mary whispered quietly as she reached her hand to switch on the light in Sam's nursery. She put Dean down and watched him shaking off his sleepiness when he saw his brother. He quickly climbed onto the stool next to the crib and leaned down, placing a kiss on the baby's forehead.

"'Night, Sam." He said to the cooing baby, and his mother approached the crib as well. She placed a steadying hand on Dean's back and leaned too, lovingly stroking Sammy's forehead and planting a kiss between his eyebrows.

"Goodnight, love..." She whispered in a singsong voice, golden curls falling to the side of her face. She smiled. Dean loved that smile. They didn't even hear the front door opening and closing when suddenly a low voice spoke.

"Hey! Dean."

A huge smile appeared on the boy's face as he turned around to see his smiling father standing in the doorway, leaning against the nursery door. "Daddy...!" He exclaimed and ran right into John's welcoming arms.

"Hey, buddy!" He said and sat his eldest boy on his hip. "What do you think?" He gestured with his chin at his wife and his baby, smiling. "Sam's ready to toss around football yet?" Dean giggled.

"No, daddy." He laughed.

"No?"

Mary's hand was suddenly on Dean's back again, stroking his shoulder as she started to leave the nursery. "You got him?" She mumbled to her husband.

"I got him." Was the quiet reply as Dean wrapped his arms around his father's neck and reasted his blond head on his shoulder. John smiled and rubbed his son's back while giving his other baby a warm glance.

"Sweet dreams, Sammy." He whispered before leaving the room with Dean in his arms, turning off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh come on guys. Tell me what you think?


	6. It Began With Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much of Castiel in this chapter but since it's the night of the fire....... Welp.

* * *

Chapter 6: It Began With Fire

* * *

The mobile toy over Sam's crib started spinning slowly in the darkness of the room, and the soft orange night light flickered repeatedly. The tiny baby watched the moving animals spinning above his head curiously, stretching his chubby hands to touch his feet. He cooed softly.

The clock on the wall stopped ticking.

08:12 PM.

In her own bed, Mary Winchester woke up to the rustling noises coming from the baby monitor on her nightstand. She turned on her night light and propped herself up, looking over her shoulder to her husband's side of the bed.

"...John...?" She mumbled tiredly when she noticed he wasn't there. She sighed and got up, rubbing her eyes as she walked towards her son's nursery. Even while tired, she managed to make out the dark figure standing next to Sam's crib. "John?" She asked again, half asleep. "Is he hungry?"

"Shh..." Was the quiet reply.

"Okay." Mary shrugged, gratefully heading back to bed.

As she walked through the hallway, she noticed the dim light above the stairs was blinking and buzzing softly. Squinting at the too-strong light, she shuffled over and tapped on it carefully until it settled. Finally satisfied, Mary made to go back to her bedroom when the flickering light from the television downstairs caught her attention. She frowned, making her way slowly down the stairs.

Step by step.

The house was so quiet, and she didn't make a sound as she climbed down the dark stairway, looking like a ghost in her white nightdress and pale blond hair. Finally, the living room came into sight and it took her a few long seconds to realize the man sleeping soundly on the chair in front of the television was her husband.

Her grasp on the stairs railing tightened until her knuckled turned white and her eyes widened. Cold fear washed over her as she realized what was standing over her baby upstairs, in the nursery. She let out a soft gasp and turned around as fast as she could, running up the stairs towards the nursery.

"Sammy...! Sammy!"

She froze at the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat when the  _thing_  looked back at her, yellow eyes shinning in the dark.

A bloodcurdling scream pierced the silence of the night, making Dean sit up in his bed with his eyes wide in fear, too scared to even get up.

Downstairs, John Winchester woke with a startled gasp, almost falling off the chair. He scrambled to his feet, running up the stairs and skipping two at a time. "Mary!" He called out in fear for his wife. "Mary...! Mary-" The name died on his lips as he burst into the nursery and saw Sam cooing peacefully in his crib, wide awake. He relaxed a little, lowering the crib railing to take a better look at his youngest son.

"Hey, Sammy..." He mumbled quietly, managing to smile weakly. "You okay?" The baby only gurgled in response.  _Was it just a dream, then...?_

_...Wait._

_What was-_

A dark drop of some kind of... something... landed right beside Sam's head.

John frowned, carefully reaching his hand to touch the drop that absorbed itself into the sheets. Then, another drop, and another, hit the back of his hand, and he stared at it in confusion. He knew what it was, even if it took him a few more precious seconds to process the information.

Something made his skin crawl.

Something...

He looked up, and his eyes widened, heart jumping to his throat in terror. He let out a shocked gasp, stumbling backwards onto the floor.

"No!"  _Was that his voice?_

Right there, on the ceiling... it was his wife. Mary was stuck up there, paralyzed and so impossibly pale, as if there wasn't a drop of blood left in her body. The middle of her nightdress was stained in blood from a wound he couldn't see, and her eyes were staring at him, terrified. Pleading. Her mouth moved in silence, and a choked, strained gasps was all she could manage to get out.

Blue eyes widened in fear, and then came the fire.

It seemed to erupt from the ceiling behind her, engulfing her frozen body with a terrible roar that almost swallowed the baby's cries of fear. John just stared at his burning wife, too shocked to move even as the fire reached white hot tongues to catch the curtains and stuffed toys on the shelf.

An angel statue fell to the floor and cracked.

John picked the terrified baby in his arms, grabbing the blanket as well as he hurried to get Sam out of the smoking, burning nursery. Just as he looked up, he saw his eldest boy standing in the hallway, looking scared and confused.

"Daddy...!" He called, taking little comfort in seeing his father and brother there. John quickly reached him and crouched down, practically shoving the squirming and crying bundle into Dean's arms. The child looked up at his father, desperately seeking the answers in his eyes.

"Take you brother outside as fast as you can!" John ordered as he looked right into his son's eyes, raising his voice to be heard over the roar of the fire that spread behind them. Dean nodded, eyes wide in fear. "Don't look back! Now, Dean! Go!" He rushed him, encouraging him to run to safety.

As his sons disappeared down the stairs, he finally straightened up and turned around to face the blinding fire.

" _Mary!"_

* * *

He ran as fast as he could, as fast as his short legs allowed him. He was so scared, and when the cold air of the chilly night outside finally hit his heated face, he realized what was happening.

 _Fire_.

Mommy was still inside. Dad told him to run. Dad put Sam in his arms. Dad told him to take care of Sam. Dad was-

Sam. He looked down at his little brother, who had stopped crying by now and only whimpered miserably in Dean's arms. Reassured Sammy wasn't hurt, Dean allowed himself to look back up at his burning home with wide, green eyes.

"It's okay, Sam." He whispered, shocked and frozen in his spot.

Suddenly, two strong and familiar arms grabbed him from behind and he tightened his grip on his brother, making sure he was safe in his arms. "Gotcha...!" Deep voice said in his ears.

Dad.

They were moving fast, barely getting out of the hot-zone as windows shuttered behind them and fire climbed up the walls of the house, swallowing it whole.

* * *

They didn't know how long they just stood there and watched their home crumbling down to burning wood and ruins, before Lawrence's firefighters were there, and water drowned the flames, leaving dark smoke around them and emptiness in their hearts. Faint yells and screams filled their ears, but they didn't pay them any attention. Their tiny family was all that mattered.

All the while, Dean didn't let go of his brother, not even when the nurse tried checking them for injuries and shock.

Someone put a blanket over his tiny shoulders.

Someone led him to sit down.

All he could see was Sammy. Sammy... Sammy... Mommy. Mommy was in the fire. Flames filling his vision, hot, blinding, deadly-

"Let me take Sam, Dean." His father's voice whispered. Dean blinked and looked up, eyes burning and moist. He didn't move. "Dean, let me take your brother, please." John repeated, a little bit stronger. Dean blinked again, and then nodded, handing the small bundle back to his father.

John murmured something Dean's mind wasn't able to understand at the moment, but then a large hand cupped the back of his head and pulled him into a broad chest that smelled of smoke and dad, and tears filled his eyes. His small fist gripped at his father's shirt as he buried his face even farther into it, choked sobs wrecking his small body.

Soft lips kissed the top of his head. His father gathered him up and held him close, Sammy pressed into his chest in his other arm. They sat there the whole night, and sometime before the morning came, the young Winchester boy fell asleep in his father's hug, dried tears leaving trails on his freckles covered cheeks.

...

Not so far away across the streets, right behind the last fire truck... stood a blond little boy with anguished blue eyes.

And stared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is some heavy shit, man... *sighs* Hope you liked it!
> 
> Next chapter will be the last one.


	7. Take It Away, or Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All good things comes to an end. This story is probably not one of these things, but it ends, too :) I hope you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. See ya on the sequel!

Chapter 7: Take It Away, or Epilogue:

* * *

It's been two long weeks after the fire, and Dean hadn't said a word since that night. John Winchester knew his son had a problem, needed someone to comfort him, but John just couldn't find the strength to care for him. He detached himself from everything and everyone, and even when Mike or his wife tried to talk to him, he'd just lose focus in the middle of a sentence, trail off. He drank a lot, and buried himself in books and paperwork that carried signs and symbols he never thought he'd see in his life. All he could focus on was a journal he started writing after Mike told him he should.

Mike Guenther let the small, broken family stay at his house until they found a place of their own, but even he didn't know how to get the four-year-old Winchester boy to talk again. Dean stopped communicating with his surroundings, and the only thing he showed interest in was Sammy. The child didn't allow anyone but his father near his little brother, and since John wasn't functioning as a father at the moment, it was up to Dean to take care of the poor baby.

Mike's wife tried to help, but there was so much she could do without making Dean upset.

After a while, John moved himself and his sons to a motel room outside of Lawrence, telling Mike he couldn't stay there any longer. Once they were out of town, John found out he could breathe again, and so he started paying a little more attention to his boys - a little bit, every day.

He saw constant pain in Dean's green, glassy eyes, and tried getting the boy to talk to him. All in vain.

After a while, he stopped trying.

Instead, he focused his mind on his youngest. Sam, too, didn't take the recent events all too well. He never stopped crying, aside from when he was held in Dean's arms. He fussed all the time and woke at least ten times a night. And every time - every night that John woke up to a screaming baby, he'd go to the other room to find Dean sitting inside Sam's crib, holding his brother close to him, as if he was scared of letting him go.

It broke his heart to see his boys hurting like that, and he couldn't help but thinking of what would Mary say if she knew what was happening to her sons. The thought filled his heart with shame.

* * *

It was dark outside, way past midnight, but Dean lay in his bed in silence, wide awake and restless. John had already went to bed, and even Sammy managed to fall asleep without fussing too much. Nights like that were a blessing... but he still couldn't sleep. Thoughts rushed through his head, throwing images and memories he wanted to see so badly and yet was frightened of.

 

_Mom's face, smiling at him brightly while her hand ruffled his hair, changing into bright orange and yellow light and the stench of smoke..._

_Cass, running towards him in the park, holding out a hand that started fading away the moment Dean tried to reach out and grab it, the angel's name dying on his lips in a silent scream..._

_And Dad. Dad turning away from him, with Sammy in arms... leaving Dean alone... alone..._

 

A silent sob tore at his throat and forced himself to calm down, breathing deeply and burying his face in his pillow.

The four-year-old tossed and turned, pulling his blanket close and curling into a ball. It was one of those night, where whenever he closed his eyes, he saw flames chasing him and fire making his home collapse in on itself, taking his mother away from him... Dean shut his eyes tight and willed the tears away, turning back around to throw the blanket off of him in frustration.

He secretly wanted to ask his father if he could sleep in his bed tonight, but he didn't dare open his mouth. He wasn't even sure he could anymore.

A single tear escaped his closed eyes and slid down his cheek.

Silence.

A sudden flatter of wings outside his window made him sit up in bed with his eyes wide open, heart racing in his small chest. He threw his legs to the side and climbed off the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floor as he hurried to the front door. The boy carefully opened the motel room's door, listening to his father snoring lightly in the other room. With a sigh of relief, Dean sneaked outside.

He froze.

There, standing in the spotlight of a street lantern in his familiar stiffness, was the one person Dean wished every day to see again. He couldn't believe it. No matter how much he prayed, no matter how many nights he fell asleep with the blue of Castiel's eyes in his mind, the angel never came. Dean began to give up on his hope to see his extraordinary friend - the one being beside Sam that could help him cope.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean started walking slowly towards him, his eyes wide, and a glint of excitement shone in them. He stared at Castiel in silence, taking in the sight of those painfully familiar blue eyes. He opened his mouth for a second – to say hi, to ask him where did he go, why did he leave him alone, anything – but a lump stuck in his throat and no sound came out. So Dean closed his mouth again and lowered his eyes in defeat.

"Dean?" Castiel's childish – yet grave – voice said, his expression concerned. He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and coaxed him to look up again, staring into the Winchester child's green eyes. "What's the matter?"

Dean opened his mouth again, but closed it immediately. He shook his head furiously, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.

"You can't speak." Castiel said quietly. "I understand. Dean." And then, just like that, the wall that kept the tears inside crumbled down, and the boy let out an anguished and broken sob, throwing himself into a very surprised angel's arms. Castiel awkwardly placed his hands on Dean's back as the child cried his heart out.

He could feel everything he felt – the grief and pain over his dead mother, the longing for his father's love and care... there was the terrible need to protect, that awfully huge responsibility for his little brother. A responsibility no child his age should feel.

And at the end of everything, there was the fear of losing Castiel himself. The repeating question of why, why,  _why_  didn't he save his mother? He was an angel... why wasn't he there when Dean needed him the most? Why didn't he answer his prayers? He was an angel,  _his_  angel...

It hurt Castiel more than he ever thought he could hurt, to know that he was the cause for such a great part of Dean's pain. But he could make it better. He knew he could.

"Dean." Castiel said again, his voice more gentle than Dean ever heard him.

The younger boy looked up and sniffled, wiping his eyes as another sob made his chin tremble. "If you want me to... I can take some of your pain away." He said, and sorrow gripped at his heart.

Dean stared at him quietly for a few long seconds, before sniffling again and nodding slowly. Two fingers were suddenly pressing on his temple, gently, as Castiel's other hand supported Dean's collapsing body.

The boy felt his head spinning, and everything seemed lighter, more peaceful... who was that that was holding him? He couldn't remember... he should remember, but he can't... can't.. and then, the realization of what was happening hit him, and the four-year-old tried to cling to the fading thoughts so desperately, he almost slipped out of Castiel's grip.

He squirmed weakly in the angel's arms, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, desperately trying to get the words out.

"-no...!" He finally managed to choke out as everything started becoming darker by the second, trying to focus on Castiel's face, his blue eyes...

He saw Castiel's lips moving, but he couldn't make out what he was saying.

"I don't wanna forget...!"

His ears were ringing.

"No, Cass...! Cass! Ca-" And then everything went black.

* * *

" _So. What makes you think you saw an, uh, angel?"_

 

" _Odd, yes. Supernatural, maybe. But angels – I don't think so."_

" _Why not?"_

" _'Cause there's no such thing, Sam."_

 

" _Okay, all right. You know what? I get it. You've got faith. That's - hey, good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier. I'll tell you who else had faith like that. Mom. She used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me."_

 

" _Well, what's to tell? She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her."_

 

" _There's no higher power, there's no God. I mean, there's just chaos, and violence, and random unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds."_

 

" _Because I've never seen one."_

 

" _Who are you?"_

" _Castiel."_

" _Yeah, I figured that much. I mean_ what _are you?"_

" _I'm an angel of the Lord."_

" _Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."_

 

" _And why would an angel rescue me from hell?"_

 

_..._

 

" _I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I wrapped it up ok and that it wasn't too confusing... don't forget to leave a comment and tell me what you think, eh? :)

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me at [tumblr](http://tamyourue.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Reviews are food for a writer's soul.


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